Fly into Orlando and start your Grapefruit League tour at Disney World. Go from there to one of the neighborhood Go-Kart parks.

Spring training is about starting over again without a care in the world. Every team is undefeated. Every team is in its childhood again. So are you. Go-Karts are cool for kids of all ages.

Now get down to what you really came to see: Baseball.

Spring training has arrived, which means we are at the halfway point between the two most significant days on any calendar: New Year’s Day and Opening Day.

Make your first stop at the Braves’ majestic complex. Watch John Smoltz, the key to the Braves’ season, work his way back from arm surgery. Wish him well. He’s one of the game’s good guys. Assure him the Mets will be tougher than ever to beat. Heckle John Rocker long enough for him to identify your accent. Just for fun, see if you can trigger his infamous temper. Hecklers need spring training to get into shape, too.

As long as you’re in the neighborhood, drive to the other side of Kissimmee and watch the game’s next superstar work out. Astros center fielder Richard Hidalgo hit a whopping 28 road home runs last season and did so without becoming a household name. If he can learn to exploit hitter-friendly Enron Field, he’s a candidate to hit 60.

Next stop: Vero Beach. Dodgertown, the most fan friendly place in baseball, is worth the trip itself. The sun seems to shine brighter here than anywhere on the planet. The place reeks of history. Look for the golf cart and listen for the unmistakable voice of old No. 2. Tell Tommy Lasorda you appreciate his efforts in bringing home the gold, ask him to pose for a picture with you, let him eat whatever might be in that sack you’re carrying. At night, check out Bobby’s III for a nice meal with a baseball feel. Don’t hassle Sandy Koufax for an autograph or picture. He’ll appreciate being left alone.

Or start toward your next stop and take in a meal at The Ramp, a kid-friendly favorite of seafood fans and burger lovers.

Shoot down to Port St. Lucie, where the Mets work out in the middle of nowhere, in the shadow of charm-less concrete otherwise known as Thomas J. White Stadium. Find Alex Escobar and watch him run with such grace. Listen to the whoosh his quick bat makes as it sprints through the hitting zone so smoothly. Watch him throw bullets.

Don’t ask yourself whether he can hit a breaking ball or stay healthy. The spring is no time to doubt. The spring is time to turn hopes into beliefs. Close your eyes, replay the image of Escobar closing ground so gracefully on that fly ball in the gap and believe that as a hitter, he will be the next Richard Hidalgo, not the next Ruben Rivera.

If you’re lucky, Mets pitchers will be working on throwing inside during your visit. If so, stake out a spot and watch Turk Wendell. Watch him collapse one of the mannequins by drilling it. Then count one, two, three, as Wendell absorbs his feat, then lets loose with a clenched fist and a soft-spoken yet passionate and prolonged “Yeaaaaaah!”

Then drive to Jupiter, where the Cards and Expos share a massive, state-of-the-art complex, and watch Mark McGwire hit baseballs to Mars. This could be your last chance. McGwire has maintained for the past two years that if there is a work stoppage after this season he will retire. His BP sessions are worth the price of the trip.

While on that side of the complex, study the most paradoxical face in baseball. Rick Ankiel, all of 21, has such youthful features corrupted by so many miles. His is the face of angst. His father and brother are in prison, and all of baseball hopes Ankiel’s Steve Blass Disease is under lock and key as well.

Walk to the Expos’ side of the complex and catch a Vladimir Guerrero BP session. With Guerrero, it’s not just how far the ball goes, it’s how quickly it gets there. Stay long enough to watch him throw a baseball.

Next stop: Fort Lauderdale, former home of the Yankees, current home of the anti-Yankees, the Orioles. Look at shortstop, where the anti-Derek Jeter, range-challenged rag-arm Mike Bordick resides. Check out hip-hobbled Albert Belle. Understand that it takes baseball savvy, not just money, to win championships.

Now you’re ready for one of the most harrowing drives of your life. You’re ready to travel by night on Alligator Alley. Gas up first because to run out of fuel on the Alley is to risk being eaten by gators. By the way, don’t bother visiting one of the state’s alligator farms. They are ripoffs. It’s no thrill to see a tame alligator. The thrill lies in seeing one where you least expect it: on the side of the road, at the golf course, on your plate at Fat Boy’s BBQ.

Tell yourself the gator tail tastes like chicken. Wash it down with key lime pie and chase that with a slice of peanut butter pie. Lock your fingers on top of your belly, stretch your feet out in front of you, sit back and watch the river flow. You’re on vacation. You’re on Florida time, slower than slow.

You’ve survived the night drive across Alligator Alley and head up the road to Fort Myers, where the Red Sox and Twins train on opposite sides of town. First, visit the Red Sox. Watch baseball’s best pitcher, Pedro Martinez, throw BP. Watch his changeup put on the brakes and dip, as if pulled on a string. Watch baseball’s best hitter, Manny Ramirez, swing the bat. Dust off your Yankee cap and go see David Cone. Thank him for his gutsy years of service and tell him to get his ears ready because he wears the enemy colors now.

Keep heading up the Gulf Coast to Port Charlotte, where the Rangers train. Watch Alex Rodriguez up close and realize there is nothing to dislike about the man. Tell him you’re sorry he didn’t end up where he would have been happiest, with the Mets. Tell him you’ll feel for him when you see him playing baseball in a climate you wouldn’t wish on the devil himself.

Next, stop at Sarasota to let Reds center fielder Ken Griffey know you are one of the millions and millions who make him the leading All-Star vote-getter and tell him you want him to remember that because you sense he feels unloved. Watch baseball’s most remarkable triangle of baseball smarts, instincts and talent. The base of the triangle stretches from shortstop to second base, from Barry Larkin to Pokey Reese. Griffey is at the top of it.

Cruise into Tampa and try the bananas foster. Savor it.

At Legends Field, compare and contrast the deliveries of Cuban refugees Orlando Hernandez and Adrian Hernandez. Watch Derek Jeter take grounders. See David Justice swing a bat and ask yourself if you don’t feel relaxed.

Now go home. Back to work. No need to stay for the duration.

Spring training is too long. Spring training isn’t nearly as long as winter.